Listen to the Mocking Bird

I'm dreaming now of Polly, sweet Polly,

sweet Polly.

I'm dreaming now of Polly,

for the thought of her is one that never dies. She's sleeping in the valley, the valley, the valley. She's sleeping in the valley, and the mockingbird is singing with

delight. Listen to the mockingbird. Listen to the mockingbird. The mockingbird's still singing o'er her grave. Listen to the mockingbird. Listen to the mockingbird. Still singing o'er the weeping willow

grave.

Ah, well I yet remember, remember, remember. Ah, well I yet remember when we gathered in the cotton side by side. 'Twas in

the mild September, September, September. 'Twas in the mild September, and

the mockingbird was singing song and rhyme. Listen to the mockingbird. Listen to the mockingbird. The mockingbird's still singing o'er her grave. Listen to the mockingbird. Listen to the mockingbird.

Still singing o'er the weeping willow grave.